Mac à la Salsa
by jareya
Summary: A story about Mac and Harm, a red dress, and a Christmas party. This story is in the same universe as the 'Brownies & Surprises' stories, but can be read alone.
1. Prologue

_A/N: I don't own them, etc etc. This story begins with a married Mac and Harm, and their children Katie and Jack, but it's really a story about how Mac and Harm got together at a Christmas party. I like to think of the main events in this story as taking place sometime in an AU Season 7 – AU because Mattie is already a part of Harm's life. As always, your feedback is welcome and appreciated!_

Katie scrambled onto a kitchen stool as she watched her father assemble ingredients for the family dinner.

"Daddy, can I help you?" she asked.

"Sure, pumpkin," her dad replied. "You can fetch me a head of lettuce from the refrigerator."

Katie jumped off the stool and ran to do Harm's bidding.

"I want to help too," Jack piped up from his seat at the kitchen table.

"Are you done with your homework?" Harm queried.

"Almost."

"You can help me just as soon as you finish, okay squirt?"

"Okay, Dad," Jack replied, quickly returning his focus to his book.

Harm smiled to himself at his children's eagerness to help out in the kitchen. He knew it wouldn't be this way forever, and often reminded himself to just enjoy Jack and Katie's "helpful stage" while it lasted.

Returning to Harm's side with the lettuce carefully cradled in her little arms, Katie stretched up on her tiptoes to present it to him.

"Thank you very much, Katie," he said.

"Daddy, why did you call it a 'head' of lettuce?" she asked.

"Because that's just what it's called,' Harm shrugged.

"But _why_?" Katie repeated, her forehead furrowed in confusion.

"I guess maybe because it looks kind of like a head."

"Gross," Katie replied, crinkling her nose as she watched her father start to take the 'head' apart to wash the lettuce leaves.

"It's just a figure of speech," Harm said, and he knew exactly what Katie would ask next.

"What's a _sfig,_ I mean, a _figus a speech_?"

Harm paused, trying to think of a way to simplify his answer. "Well, a figure of speech is a special way of talking about something or someone. Like, you can use a word to describe something, because it reminds you of something else. So, if I call you my daughter and Jack my son, that's called a 'literal' way of talking about you. But if I say that you're my 'little rainbows', that's a figure of speech."

Katie giggled. "Because we're not really rainbows, right?"

"Yeah," Harm replied, "you're not rainbows 'literally', but you definitely remind me and your mom of rainbows in many ways."

"How?" Jack asked, looking up from his homework.

"Well, how about this? You two tell me some things about rainbows, and then I'll tell you why you and your sister remind me of rainbows."

"They have lots of different colors," Jack said.

"That's right," Harm replied. "Lots of different colors. Let's sing the song about all the colors in a rainbow."

As they sang, Mac entered the kitchen. Dressed in blue yoga pants and a white tank top that rode up to reveal the rounded curve of her belly, she looked fresh and youthful. Her brown hair, thick and lustrous, spilled in disarray over her shoulders. Harm thought to himself that she was more beautiful than ever before.

Katie ran up to her. "Mommy! Did you and the baby in your belly have a good nap?"

"Yes, princess, we did. What are you all doing?"

"Well, Daddy is cooking, and we're talking about rainbows."

"From what I just heard, you're _singing _about rainbows."

Harm caught Mac's eye and smiled ruefully. "I hope we didn't wake you up."

Mac smiled, taking in the sight set before her. There were her children – Katie with her golden ponytail and big blue eyes, Jack with his tousled brown hair and dark, shrewd eyes. Then there was her husband, relaxed and handsome. "Well, I can think of worse things to wake up to than the sound of my own little choir of angels," she said to Harm.

"That's a figure of speech, Mom," Jack said.

"What is?" Mac replied, puzzled.

"Calling us angels. Because in the _litrel_ way, Dad is a man, I'm a boy, and Katie is a girl. We're not _really _angels."

"Wow, that's very good, Jack. Did you learn that at school?"

"No, Dad just taught us."

"Well,' Mac said, "you and your Dad are absolutely right – that _was_a figure of speech. But you are all my angels in lots of ways."

"How?" This time it was Katie who asked, tugging on her mother's pants.

"Wait, Katie," Jack complained, "we were still talking about the rainbows."

"Oh sorry – well, you said that rainbows have lots of colors," Katie reminded herself, then looked confused as she studied her arms and legs, "but I don't have lots of colors like pink and green and yellow." She glanced at her brother and frowned. "And neither do you. So we can't be rainbows."

Harm laughed, and Mac looked bemused. For her benefit, Harm said, "I'm explaining to them why they remind us of rainbows… they're telling me things about rainbows, and then I'm telling them why each of those things reminds us of them."

Mac chuckled, then sat at the table, seating Katie beside her. "Maybe I can help. Katie, when we talk about you and your brother and the colors of a rainbow, we're really thinking about how those colors make us feel. How do you feel when you see a pretty picture with lots of colors?"

"Happy,' Katie said.

"Yes, and that's how you and Jack make us feel. Happy and bright and colorful."

"Well said, Mac," Harm said, as he emptied a packet of pasta into a pot of boiling water. "So, what else do you know about rainbows, Jack and Katie?"

"Well, they come out after it rains," Katie said.

Harm smiled. "Well, you know the rain is really good for us, right?"

"Yes," Katie replied, "it helps the flowers grow."

"And the vegetables too," Jack chimed in.

"Yes," Harm continued, "without the rain, we wouldn't have enough food or water, and neither would the animals. So rain is great. We love the rain. But sometimes, when it rains a whole lot, you know how you start to wish the sun would come out?"

"Yep," Jack said, "because when it's raining, we can't go out and play. Like today." It was a cold, wet Saturday evening. It had been raining cats and dogs all day, and going out to play was out of the question.

"Exactly," Harm responded, "and then you know how after a while, the rain stops and the sun comes out, and it's warm, and there's a rainbow, and you feel really happy?"

Jack and Katie nodded their agreement.

"Well, that's how your mom and I feel whenever we see you. When we've been apart for school, or work, and then we get together again, it really feels like the sun has come out. You make us really happy."

The kids looked longingly out the kitchen window, wishing for sunshine and rainbows.

Harm asked, "Okay, how about another fact about rainbows?"

"They're up in the sky," was Katie's response.

Harm grimaced and turned towards Mac. "Okay, you've got that one."

Mac rolled her eyes and playfully punched him in the arm. "Gee, thanks. Well, Katie, it's like this… all our best gifts come from up above. Like the things we just talked about – rainbows, rain, sunshine. Then there's the moon, the stars… and you two."

Jack looked perplexed. "Uh, I'm pretty sure we came from Russia, Mom."

"Well, yes you did – in the literal sense. But your dad and I also believe that you and sister were gifts from above."

Jack still looked doubtful. "I guess that's another figure of speech, right?"

"Uh huh. Any more facts about rainbows you'd like us to talk about?"

"Well, a rainbow is kinda shaped like part of a circle," Jack said.

Mac and Harm looked at each other, stymied and amused. "Uh, yeah… I think that one's only true when you're talking about the literal rainbows," Harm finally said.

Jack nodded and shrugged, evidently bored with the subject of figures of speech. He put down his pencil. "Can I come and help you now, Dad? I'll finish my homework after dinner, I promise."

"Okay, but I'm going to hold you to that promise. Come over here – I'll show you how to mix up some herbs for the salsa."

Watching Harm and Jack pluck fresh herbs from the box on the windowsill, Katie was instantly jealous. "I want to help too," she complained.

Harm helped her wash her hands, and then showed her how to shred the lettuce with her hands.

Harm turned to Mac. "Want a task too, Mac?" he asked.

"No thanks," Mac denied, "I'm perfectly happy to just sit here and watch you all. What's for dinner?"

"Yeah, what are we cooking, Daddy?" Katie asked from her stool.

"We are making one of my favorite recipes," Harm said, watching Jack run water over the herbs. "In fact, I bet you didn't know this, but it's named after your mom."

"Really?" Jack and Katie looked surprised, and intrigued.

"Yes, it's called 'mac à la salsa'."

Jack looked at his mother. "Wow, Mom, I didn't know you had food named after you."

Mac shrugged. "Trust me, Jack, I didn't know that either." She looked at Harm quizzically. "Maybe your father can enlighten us all." Sensing that Jack was about to ask, she quickly said, "To 'enlighten' means to tell someone about something."

Harm looked up from the cutting board where he was slicing scallions and smiled. "You've been eating this for years, Mac. My standard cheesy macaroni in tomato sauce. You just didn't know it was named after you."

"I'm honored," Mac replied, "but when – and why – did you name it after me?"

"It's always reminded me of you," Harm grinned.

"Like a _figus of peach_," Katie said helpfully, making her parents chuckle.

"Why does it remind you of Mom?' Jack asked Harm. "Because her name is Mac, and 'mac' is also short for macaroni?"

"Well, that's part of it, because 'mac à la salsa' literally means 'mac in sauce'," Harm acknowledged. Then looking straight into Mac's eyes, he continued, "but then it also reminds me of one _very_ special night, just a few days to Christmas, with a different kind of salsa, and your mom in a _very _special red dress."

Mac blushed, looking away, suddenly shy. "Okay Harm, I'm pretty sure the kids don't want to know about that night."

"Yes we do," Jack denied quickly, looking indignant.

"Yes, please," Katie added.

"Please," the children chorused, long and loud.

"Sounds like you've been outvoted," Harm said to Mac, who threw up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay kids, if you want to hear this story, please wash your hands and sit down at the table."

As the kids hurried to do his bidding, Harm smiled and whispered to Mac, "Don't worry; I'll give them the PG version."


	2. Planning the Party: Outlandish Ideas

_Thanks so much for reading and reviewing… your reviews always make me smile!_

_**Six years earlier…**_

Mac tapped her foot impatiently against the table as Tiner eagerly reeled off yet another long-winded and outlandish idea.

"So that way," he concluded, "the person dressed as the most exotic flower gets the grand prize, but all the flowers – I mean, the people dressed as flowers – they all win something too."

Mac resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They were sitting in the cafeteria, having a lunch meeting to discuss ideas for the office Christmas party. With her crazy schedule, she hadn't found time to come up with party themes, so she'd asked Tiner before the meeting to come up with five ideas for discussion. So far, every idea Tiner had come up with was either wacky, or loony, or both.

"What do you think, ma'am?" Tiner asked, looking at Mac expectantly.

_What can I say?_ Mac wondered. "Jason, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but that wouldn't really work. A lot of people in this office will have a _big_ problem with the concept of dressing up as flowers."

"To be honest," Tiner said, "I have a problem with it too, ma'am… I know that was the weakest idea I've presented, but I was just trying to think outside the box."

_Outside the box?_ Mac thought. _For you, Tiner, there is no box._ Out loud, she said, "I appreciate that, but I'm going to have to nix that idea. Do you have any others?"

"No ma'am, that's it."

"So," Mac looked down at her notepad, "we have the high-school reunion idea, the 'Cats' party theme, the 'Gone With The Wind' theme, the one where everyone comes dressed as Santa, and the one where everyone comes dressed as flowers."

"Yes, that sums it up nicely, ma'am,' Tiner said proudly.

_Well, this wasn't a waste of time at all,_ Mac thought to herself. "Thanks for taking the time to come up with these ideas. I'll, uh, get back to you. Listen, it's not urgent, but I'd like to see the Admiral sometime this afternoon."

"Sure, ma'am."

Two hours later, Mac sat across from a visibly irked Admiral AJ Chegwidden. "Colonel, am I to understand that you are refusing to do this?" he asked, leaning forward.

"No sir," Mac replied quickly, shaking her head. "Not at all, it's just that, I really think that having an informal drink at McMurphy's at the end of the year has become something of an institution around here over the years, sir. A party isn't really our style, sir – I think most people would actually prefer having a drink or two in a more relaxed setting, and - ."

"Well, that's just the problem! We've grown too used to doing things our own way around here. We need to evolve, to adapt to change – and something as simple as having a small Christmas party this year, instead of just going down to McMurphy's for a drink, might be a good place to start."

"I understand sir, but everyone is so busy at the end of the year, especially this year. We're all swamped. A party will take time to plan –"

"That's exactly why I asked Tiner to assist you," Chegwidden interrupted. "I don't expect you to do the legwork; I know how busy you are with much more important assignments. I expect you to play a purely supervisory and coordinative role. Feel free to assign the actual organizing to Tiner and anyone else you feel would be appropriate. Just supervise – or do you have a problem with that too?"

"I can definitely handle that, sir – I just wanted you to be aware of the, uh, other considerations –"

Chegwidden sat back in his chair. "Thank you, I now consider myself fully informed. Perhaps I now need to inform _you_ of why I consider this to be important – so important that I'm even willing to foot the bill. These are difficult days for us all, Colonel, and everyone here has gone above and beyond the call of duty this year. In these trying times, it's important to remind ourselves of what's truly important. We need a little Christmas cheer, perhaps more than ever before. Just for one night, it would be nice for everyone to bond, relax and let their hair down in an informal atmosphere. I'm not asking for an elaborate event, just something small and tasteful. Is that understood?"

"Aye, sir," Mac nodded.

"And if you encounter any challenges that appear too difficult for you to deal with on your own – although I struggle to imagine what those could be in this context – then of course I am available to assist you. Now go on and plan an entertaining, memorable event. Dismissed."

Mac rose and snapped to attention. "Aye, sir."

As she reached the door, Chegwidden's voice rose again from behind her. "And keep your eye on my budget! Keep it low!"

She turned around and nodded, smothering a sigh. "Yes, sir."


	3. Planning the Party: The Sexy Spaniard

Two days later, Tiner knocked on Mac's door promptly at 1730. "How can I help you, ma'am?" he asked, when Mac asked him to enter.

"Thanks for coming, Jason. Please sit down. As you've probably guessed, it's about the Christmas party. Your ideas were… fun, but a little… impractical. I've been thinking about it, and I've come up with something that I think could work."

"That's great, ma'am," Tiner said, looking a bit crestfallen. "I'm sorry my ideas were so crappy."

"No, Tiner, they were very creative… they just weren't right for us. They would involve a level of preparation that would be difficult to achieve within the time frame. They would also cost a lot – we're working with a tight budget, remember? So I thought a Latin theme would be fun – and much simpler to execute. It's something different, the music and dancing would be fun and lively, and I think Spanish food and drinks would be great too."

Tiner leaned forward in excitement. "That sounds wonderful."

"Hopefully it'll go down well with everyone," Mac shrugged. "It won't too formal; we'll be working towards a mellow, relaxed atmosphere – but still festive and Christmassy. And hopefully it won't be too difficult to organize. I was looking on the internet and found a salsa club about 20 minutes from here. They have a large private room that looks promising. I made an appointment with the manager earlier today, so I thought we could go and check it out together before we head home."

"Sounds great. I'm sorry you've had to come up with all the ideas."

"Don't worry about it," Mac said, rising to her feet and picking up her purse, "I'll be relying on you to handle a lot of the arrangements from here on out."

"You can count on me, ma'am," Tiner nodded.

It was not long before Mac and Tiner were standing in the back office at Loca Salsa Club, talking to the manager, Santiago Ramirez. Santiago was very good-looking – tall and well-built, with dark, piercing eyes and thick, black hair. Mac furtively admired his honeyed skin and his warm, lightly-accented voice, but she maintained a strictly professional demeanor. Of course, it didn't help that he was trying to flirt with her.

"Colonel," he said, his dark eyes glued to hers, "I am so glad you came – I think Loca would be the perfect place for your party. Let me show you our private event room."

He led them up to a large room with warm, modern furnishing, pointing out where the bar would be located, and where the buffet tables would be set up.

"As you can see, there's lots of standing room, but we'll also have chairs lined up on these sides of the room," he said, pointing out the seating areas. "This room easily takes up to 100 people – and we can take up to 20 more if we get a bit creative."

"We'll be a lot fewer than that," Mac interjected.

"Good, that'll give us more room for dancing. Of course, we can handle the Christmas decorations. May I ask what sort of entertainment you have in mind?"

"Well, the music and dancing will be the main draw, of course," Mac replied. "I was wondering if we could have a couple of instructors available – just to give some… inspiration to anyone who's a bit shy about dancing to Latin music."

"Lovely idea, Colonel. As it happens, I will be free that night. I can make a team of three available – me and two assistants, Carmen and Josie."

"Sounds perfect," Mac smiled. "I also thought we could have a few simple party games." She turned to Tiner. "What do you think, Jason?"

"That sounds great, ma'am. What sort of food and drinks are available?" Tiner asked Santiago.

"Unfortunately our catering manager is busy downstairs right now, but I will ask him to call you tomorrow to discuss menu options. There's a special Christmas menu that mixes our usual Spanish specialties with some more traditional fare. And of course, there'll be a fully-stocked bar for your guests."

Mac took one last look around and then turned to Santiago. "Well, I think this should suit us well. We're working with a really tight budget here, but as long as your prices are right when everything is factored in, I think we could have a deal. Thank you very much for your time, Mr Ramirez. We'll let you get back to your guests."

She stretched out her hand, but instead of shaking it, Santiago raised it to his lips. "Please, call me Santi."

Mac smiled, thinking to herself that 'Santi' was incredibly smooth. Charmed in spite of herself, she tried to cover it up with a stern speech. "I should mention that we are a pretty low-profile bunch. We'll be expecting discretion and a private, organized environment."

"Of course," Santiago responded. "We've worked with military clients before, and we understand that. I like to think we provide a fun, but comfortable and secure environment to _all_ our clients. Our goal is always to make everyone that comes in here feel free and at ease. Especially when clients are as… beautiful and elegant as you, Colonel."

"Thank you, Mr… Santi. I'll call you tomorrow to talk about the numbers."

At the office the next day, Mac was doing just that, ironing out the numbers with Santi over the phone, when Harm showed up at her office door, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. She quirked an eyebrow at him, then pointed at the phone. When he didn't budge, she asked Santiago to give her a moment, and then looked up at Harm.

"I'm on the phone at the moment – is this important?"

"You tell me."

Mac was puzzled. "_Tell you_ what? I need to finish this call, Harm. Mind if I talk to you later?"

But Harm just shook his head and stood there, so Mac shrugged and continued her telephone conversation. When the negotiations were over and the phone replaced, she looked up at Harm.

"Are you okay, Harm? Why are you just standing there?"

Harm shrugged. "So who's this Santi guy? A party planner?"

"No," Mac replied with a laugh, "the party planner would be me… and Tiner. The Admiral saddled us with the task of planning a Christmas party for the office."

"Why are we having a Christmas party? What's wrong with our usual drinks at McMurphy's?"

"The Admiral wants us to try something new. So we're going to a salsa club – managed by Santi - for a Latin-themed night."

"Sounds… interesting. Anyway, I'm out of here – I have a meeting with a witness for the Foxhill case. I was just walking past your office and overheard you talking about a party, so I had to come and find out what it was about."

"Why?" Mac asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Because you're always the life and soul of the party? While everyone else is burning up the dance floor, you're just going to stand in a corner looking pensive, so I don't know why you care."

"Excuse me," Harm said indignantly. "I'll have you know my partying skills are legendary."

"Yeah… right," Mac scoffed. "Legendary for being so pathetic that they're practically non-existent."

"Just wait till the Christmas party. I'll prove you wrong."

Mac laughed. "Well, all I can say is, I will _not_ be holding my breath for that. Catch you later, Harm."


	4. The Party: Getting Dressed

It was the night of the party. Fresh from the shower, Mac was sitting on the edge of her bed wrapped in a towel, staring at the red dress draped across her duvet. Going shopping for a new dress had been a weird and random impulse. She already had several outfits in her closet that would have suited the 'Red, Black or Gold' dress code she and Tiner had selected for the party. Yet _something_ had led her to her favorite department store the day before, and the dress had been staring her in the face almost as soon as she walked through the door.

It was love at first sight. From the moment she viewed the stunning, knee-length number with a flared skirt and molded, halter-necked bodice, she knew she _had_ to try it on. When she did, the saleslady let out a loud gasp.

"You look absolutely amazing, ma'am. This dress was made for you."

Mac eyed the dress again. It was strange, but she felt there was something special, momentous even, about it. She laughed to herself. _Now that really is crazy_, she thought. _It's just a dress_.

_I'd better get dressed_, she thought to herself, standing up and heading towards her lingerie drawer. Idly she wondered what Harm would wear – he looked great in pretty much everything, but she had always liked him in more casual attire – like a dark, v-necked sweater, fitted but not tight, with the sleeves partially pushed up to reveal his attractive arms. She shook her head – _why do I care what he wears_? Then she wondered if he would bring a girl to the party. She wondered if he was dating again, then reminded herself sternly that if he was, it was none of her business.

But as she slipped on her underwear, her thoughts were still on the question of if Harm was seeing someone new. Then she quickly dismissed the idea – Harm was more private than most men, but he'd never hidden his romantic relationships. Still, that didn't mean he wouldn't decide to find a date just for tonight's party. She imagined him arriving at the club with a beautiful woman clinging to his arm… and then pushed the thought out of her mind… she had too much to think about tonight without stressing out over something that was really nothing to do with her. Harm could show up with Angelina Jolie for all she cared.

Meanwhile, in his apartment, Harm was getting dressed too. _Black v-necked sweater, black pants, black shoes… maybe a little too much black,_ he thought to himself, but he wasn't inclined to wear anything else. Maybe it was an appropriate color choice; to match the dark mood he was usually in around this time of the year. Besides, he vaguely remembered something about the dress code for the party being black – or black and something… or whatever.

As he pulled on a pair of black socks, his mind traveled to Mac – a place his mind liked to visit all too often these days. He wondered about her and that Santi character. He had overheard her laughing with him on the phone a couple of times during the last few days. He wondered what the man looked like. Was Mac was thinking about dating him? He thought to himself that it would be weird if she did – a career-minded Marine and a nightclub manager would make a pretty odd couple. _No more odd than a Naval officer and a video director_, he thought self-mockingly. _Besides, it's none of my business who she dates._ He shoved his wallet in his pocket and headed out the door.


	5. The Party: 'Some People Never Try'

_A few hours later_

The party was in full swing. Mac was delighted to see most of her colleagues on the dance floor. The room was filled with laughter and the relaxed camaraderie of old friends.

Looking around her, she spotted Bud sitting alone in a corner of the room, and decided to keep him company for a while.

She gestured to the seat next to him. "Mind if I sit down here for a second, Bud?"

"Of course, ma'am," Bud smiled up at her.

"I would try and convince you to call me 'Mac' tonight, but I know from experience that it would be an exercise in futility." Mac grinned teasingly as she sat beside him.

Bud blushed. "I guess it's force of habit."

"So where's Harriet?"

Bud pointed his wife out to Mac. "Right there – burning up the dance floor with Tiner." He laughed. "Did I ever tell you about the time I almost tackled Tiner because I thought he was interested in Harriet?"

"No," Mac exclaimed in surprise.

"Yep. Harriet was pregnant at the time, and I was convinced Tiner had the hots for her."

Mac waved her hand, laughing. "Okay, you were expecting a baby, and your brain was a little fried. Completely understandable."

"I guess. They look good together, don't they?"

Mac studied Harriet, resplendent in a short, shiny, gold dress, as Tiner twirled her around. Both were laughing. Mac shook her head. "They may be having fun, but they're not a patch on you and Harriet. One of my favorite memories of you two is watching you dance at that ball when you first got together. You were both glowing – so clearly happy and in love."

Bud smiled wistfully. "Back when I was a stupid kid with stars in my eyes."

"Hey, watch it," Mac scolded teasingly, "I'm pretty fond of that kid."

They laughed, and for a while sat in companionable silence.

When his dance with Harriet ended, Tiner walked up to Mac. "This party is going great, isn't it, ma'am?"

"Yes, it certainly is. You've done a great job organizing everything. And you're certainly keeping the dance floor nice and warm."

Tiner smiled. "I'm dancing with Commander Imes next, but I was hoping that you might give me the honor of the one after that?"

"Sure," Mac replied, "I'll find you."

As Tiner moved away, Mac excused herself and headed to the ladies' room to freshen up. On her return, she spotted Harm leaning against one of the walls with a drink in his hand. Shaking her head, she walked up to him.

As Harm watched Mac approach him, he felt his composure start to disintegrate. His thoughts scrambled. He'd been watching her all evening – and after a quick 'hello', he'd largely avoided her; afraid that if he got too close, he might blurt out something dumb, like "You look amazing tonight." Because she did. She sizzled in a sexy red dress that shimmied flirtatiously around her slim hips with every step she took. Her lips were a sultry shade of red, her hair pulled back from her face to skim the back of her neck, her dark eyes seeming to glow from within. The small gold hoops at her ears trembled when she moved, as did the two gold bangles on her wrist. She looked sensational, irresistible, and it was all he could do not to pull her towards him and….

Suddenly she was standing in front of him. "Hey Harm," Mac teased, "the life and soul of the party, as always. Did I remember to put some money on that one?"

Harm laughed. "Don't count me out yet," he warned, "I'm just getting started."

"Okay then – we'll see if the party animal in you comes out to play before the night is through. Are you having a good time?" Mac smiled again, and as always, Harm was transfixed by that smile.

When he replied, his words came out more tersely than he'd expected. "Yeah. Great party."

"Well, it can't be all that great if all you've done for the past hour is stand here sipping a drink. You should dance," Mac said, looking around the room. She casually slid one arm through one of his, nudging him gently towards the dance floor. "I know you probably don't know the steps, but I could get one of Santi's assistants, Carmen or Josie, to help you out. They could show you the basics during the next song."

The words slipped out before Harm could stop them. "Why don't _you_ show me, Mac?"

When Harm issued the casual invitation, Mac's startled eyes snapped back to his face. There was something so tempting about Harm's tone – it was probably all in her mind, but she felt as though he was asking her to show him a lot more than some basic salsa steps.

She felt her cheeks burn as a clear mental image invaded her mind – Harm sitting on the edge of her bed, his eyes burning into hers, as she reached behind her neck to loosen the tie that held up her red dress, and it whispered its way down her body, pooling at her feet. She shivered involuntarily at the thought, feeling her belly tighten, and knew it was time to beat a swift retreat. She couldn't be all relaxed and nonchalant around Harm, not right at that moment. Maybe she'd had a little too much sangria, and it was making her think crazy thoughts. "Maybe later," she said quickly, disengaging her arm from his, as one song started to fade into another, "Tiner and I are dancing the next one together."

It was a slow, romantic number, and Tiner placed a tentative arm around her waist.

"May I say that you look stunning tonight, ma'am,' he said, as they started swaying to the music.

"Thanks Jason, you look great too." After a short silence, Mac continued. "I thought you might bring a date to the party."

"I'm not seeing anyone right now. Between work and school, there's just no time for a relationship."

Mac nodded. "I can understand how you feel – but trust me, if you met the right girl, you'd make time for her."

Tiner smiled. "I'd like to think so, but I don't know… I guess I'm a bit cynical about romance. So many people _seem_ like they'd be great together, but it just doesn't work out, no matter how they try."

"And some people never try," Mac said wistfully, her thoughts on Harm. They'd never tried, and maybe they never would. The thought made her sad, and she felt the familiar longing deep within her for the things she'd always wanted – someone to share her life with, the chance to start a family.

The song ended, and as Tiner moved away from her, Mac felt a warm hand on her bare shoulder. She spun around to face Santiago. Strangely disappointed, she mustered a smile. 'Hi Santi. You and your team are doing a great job."

"Didn't I promise you that we would?" Santiago asked. "But apart from that last one, I haven't seen you dance all night."

"Well, I've just been busy making sure everyone's having a good time…."

"You must dance this one with me, señorita. Please."

"Señorita?" Mac queried with a little laugh.

"Yes, Colonel. I'm sure you are an excellent officer, but you are also a beautiful lady, with a dark mystery in your eyes, a magnificent red dress, and a bewitching smile that would warm the coldest heart."

Mac managed to restrain herself from rolling her eyes, but it took some effort. "Thank you, Santi. But I really should go check on –"

"Please, Colonel. Just this one. It is my favorite, a classic."

Mac opened her mouth to protest, but before she could let out another sound, Santiago went on, "And please don't even try to tell me you can't dance. You're a natural – I can see the rhythm of the drums in your eyes – you feel the music, you understand its heartbeat, you sense its soul."

With that, he pulled her into the circle of his arms, and they began to move in unison to the beat. Instinctively, they seemed to understand just where they wanted each movement to go, and as he spun her out and whipped her back into his arms, Santiago smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling attractively. "I knew it. A natural."

From his perch in the corner of the room, Harm caught a flash of Mac's flirty red skirt, lifting and spinning through the air. Even through the noise in the room, he could hear her warm laughter. He tried to convince himself that he was better off not taking a closer look, but he couldn't stop himself from moving, drink in hand, towards the dance floor. Once his eyes settled on her, he couldn't look away. He reflected to himself that watching Mac's easy sensuality as she swayed, shook and shimmied smoothly to the music was a peculiar form of torture, especially when she was dancing with someone else.

Mac and Santiago's skilful dancing quickly caught the attention of the other couples on the dance floor, and soon they were alone in the center of the room, surrounded by an admiring, cheering audience. Uncomfortable with being the center of attention, Mac tried unsuccessfully to pull away. "Uh, I guess we should stop, Santi. Everyone else has stopped dancing."

Pausing to dip Mac and then slowly, gracefully pull her back up, Santiago shook his head. "Why are you uneasy? A beautiful woman like you should enjoy having all eyes on you. It is nothing less than you deserve."

Mac laughed. "Oh you're smooth, Santi… okay, we'll finish this song, but then we'll give everyone else a chance to get back on the dance floor."

Mac was out of luck… it was a long song. And if it felt long to her, it felt even longer to Harm. Even when the song was finally over and Mac was shyly acknowledging the appreciative applause of the crowd that had surrounded her and her dance partner, Harm couldn't stop staring. His gaze followed her as she left the center of the dance floor and returned to where Bud and Harriet were standing.

Bud and Harriet applauded Mac again as she approached them. "That was amazing, ma'am," Bud said. "I had no idea you were a salsa expert."

"Hardly an expert." Mac blushed as she pushed a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. "Santiago's toes are probably sore right now – I think I stepped on them at least twice."

Harriet rolled her eyes. "Like he'd complain if you did! He couldn't take his eyes off you and –." Harriet paused, remembering Bud was still nearby. "Would you mind getting the Colonel a drink from the bar, Bud? I think she needs to cool down after all that dancing."

Realizing it was his cue to give Harriet and Mac some privacy, Bud quickly elicited Mac's preference and then headed towards the bar.

"So…," Harriet began, her eyes twinkling at Mac, "what's the deal with you and the Latin dance god?"

"Are you kidding? There is no 'deal', Harriet."

"Why not? He's gorgeous, sexy and a terrific dancer… and you know what they say about good dancers."

"Harriet!"

"Seriously… why not?"

"He's not exactly my type," Mac replied.

Harriet shrugged. "Maybe not, but I'm not saying you should get married. A few dates with him could be… fun. Dinner, dancing and… _dot dot dot_." She winked.

"I wish it could be that simple. Things always seem to get… complicated when it comes to me and men."

"Speaking of complicated," Harriet interjected, clearing her throat, "Santiago's not the only guy who couldn't take his eyes off you during that dance."

Mac was puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"That's all I'm saying," Harriet said mischievously, looking in Harm's direction. Mac's eyes turned to follow Harriet's, and her skin prickled as her eyes clashed with Harm's. Their gazes held for a minute. Harm looked away first, checking his watch. Mac turned back to her friend, feeling unsettled. Harriet was obviously jumping to all the wrong conclusions. _Oh Harriet – you are so wrong,_ Mac thought to herself, _if Harm was watching at all, he was probably thinking how inappropriate it was for me to be twirling around in the arms of the nightclub manager_.

Oblivious to the bitter thoughts running through Mac's mind, Harriet looked over her shoulder. "And here comes Bud with your drink."


	6. The Party: The Dance

The evening continued in an ever-faster whirl of color, music, food, laughter, drinking and more dancing. Mac danced two more times, with Commander Mattoni and Admiral Chegwidden. Harm danced once, with Harriet, when a slow ballad was played, which thrilled Harriet to no end. As the night drew to a close, Santiago asked for Mac's permission to make a few comments. He moved to the center of the dance floor, and when he had everyone's attention, he began.

"It is always a great honor for us here at Loca to host members of our military community, and on behalf of Loca, I thank you all for your service, and for your lively participation in tonight's festivities."

Santiago turned towards Mac. "I would especially like to thank the beautiful Lt. Colonel MacKenzie and her team for planning this wonderful evening. The night is still young. But right now, I would like to request her hand one last time for another dance, and I trust that you will all join us on the dance floor."

As he pulled Mac into his arms, the room erupted in applause, and other couples joined them at the center of the room. Losing herself in the music, Mac let Santiago lead, closing her eyes and reveling in the heady, hypnotic rhythms. She was relieved that the night was almost over and that it had been a success.

Suddenly, Mac felt her hand being placed in another hand. Confused, she opened her eyes to find herself looking straight into Harm's eyes. He looked just as startled as she felt, and she turned towards Santiago, who had let go of her other hand and was dancing away from them, smiling. Panicked and angry, she took a step towards Santiago, but found herself restrained – Harm was still holding on to her hand.

She looked down at that hand, nestled in his warm, larger one, and then up at Harm's face. At that moment, his eyes seemed to be a hypnotic, glittering green, and she couldn't look away from them. She felt her mouth go dry and her heart start to beat heavily in her chest. Before she could say a word, he spoke, with a reassuring smile.

His words were simple. "It's okay, Mac. Let's just dance."

Completely flustered by the entire turn of events, Mac strove for casualness. "Alright then, why not? But try not to step on my toes," she joked, "I know this style of dancing isn't exactly your forte."

As Harm swung Mac into his strong arms, the beat changed, became even faster, more vibrant. Mac decided to ease Harm into the dance by keeping her steps simple and basic. To her astonishment, Harm spun her into an intricate set of figures with a finesse that stunned her, spinning her out and pulling her back to himself smoothly, swiftly. His footwork was nimble, smooth, confident, as was the ease with which he followed the rhythm of the music. She looked up at him, so disconcerted by the discovery of his secret Latin dance skills that she stumbled for a moment.

Harm smiled. "Now don't go stepping on _my_ toes."

Mac smiled back, shaking her head. "You are _full_ of surprises, Harmon Rabb."

He grinned, and continued to lead her in such complicated movements that it was a challenge for her to keep up with him. But she was loving every moment – she felt more _alive_ than she'd felt in a long time, and she didn't want the night to end. Then the music changed to an Argentine tango, led Mac in the most seductive dance of her life. They circled and stalked each other to the mounting, pulsating rhythm of the tango, each unable to look away from the other. It was energetic, exhilarating, and they completely forgot that they were in a room full of people.

The next song was a slow ballad. As Harm pulled her close and her arms slid up his strong chest, Mac felt the sharp sting of tears behind her eyes. She didn't understand why she was feeling so emotional – it wasn't as though she was being held by him for the first time. All she knew was that there was an overwhelming sense of peace and well-being – of being _at home_ – that filled her. Slowly, she let herself just relax and enjoy that irresistibly warm feeling.

The deeply romantic lyrics of the song they were dancing to slowly penetrated the pleasant fog in Mac's mind – they were about a man reaching out for a woman, adoring her, promising never to let her go. It was strange, but as she rested her cheek against Harm's chest, feeling it rise and fall and listening to his strong, steady heartbeat, the words didn't fill her with that old sense of yearning. She _felt_ loved, she _felt_ wanted, she _felt_ adored – and even if there was a voice somewhere in the back of her mind trying to remind her that it was all a mirage, she knew she didn't want to fight her feelings. She ignored the voice, closed her eyes and let herself melt into the arms of the man she loved.

Suddenly, Mac felt a weird throbbing between them. _What the – _, she thought, her eyes flying open. They broke apart. As she tried to find her bearings, Mac realized it must have been Harm's cell phone, vibrating in his pocket. She also realized that it was late – it could be an emergency. Harm apologized to Mac as he quickly checked the phone. He grimaced.

Mac was concerned. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know." His brow furrowed. "It's Mattie, and she normally wouldn't call this late. I'm sorry, I have to take this. I'll be right back."

"Of course," Mac nodded.

Feeling strangely bereft, she watched Harm leave the room.

Soon, Harriet appeared at her side. "Wow, did you have any idea the Commander could dance like that?"

Bemused, Mac shook her head slowly. She glanced at Harriet, whose eyes were wide with fascination.

"I have to say," Harriet continued, "I thought you and Santiago danced really well together, but you and the Commander – well, you just burned up the dance floor. No one could take their eyes off you, and the weird thing was, you didn't even seem to notice. It was like you were both wrapped up in your own little world."

Mac's cheeks burned. It dawned on her that she'd just made a spectacle of herself – surely anyone watching them would have seen her feelings for Harm reflected in her face as they danced. She saw Harm coming back into the room, and noted that his body language was relaxed – so Mattie was probably fine. _Would he want to go on dancing?_

Suddenly, Mac knew she couldn't take more dancing with Harm, or even being around him – the emotions he was evoking within her were too intense, and she had to steel herself for the inevitable – the harsh return to reality. There was nothing more than friendship between them, and all the sexy dancing in the world couldn't change that. She needed to get away. She desperately needed some air – preferably cold air – to help tamp down the heat she could feel stirring deep in her belly.

"Excuse me, Harriet," she said, "I'll be right back."


	7. The Party: The Black Shawl

_A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who's reading and reviewing... and Happy New Year!_

Pausing to grab her shawl, Mac left the room as unobtrusively as she could. She was halfway down the stairs when she bumped into Santiago, who smiled winningly at her.

"I'm so sorry if I embarrassed you earlier, señorita, but I've watched you and your… friend all night… I saw how you looked at him, and I just had to find a way for you to dance together. I know two people in love when I see it, and much as I would have liked to keep you to myself, I knew the right thing to do was to lead you to the one you loved." He placed a hand on his chest dramatically. "What can I say? I'm a romantic."

Speechless, Mac could only stare at him. _So she really was so transparent that everyone, even practical strangers, had noticed how she looked at Harm_, she thought. She wished she could just crawl into a hole and never come out.

"Where are you going?" Santiago asked.

"Just outside for a minute… I'll be back." Not waiting to hear his response, Mac dashed down the rest of the stairs, into the lobby and out of the door. Finding a quiet, hidden spot at the side of the building, she shivered in the cold air, pulling her shawl tighter around herself. The large shawl was made of soft, black wool of the finest quality, hand-woven into an intricate, old-fashioned floral design. It was one of the most cherished items in Mac's closet, knitted by an elderly woman she'd met in Arizona years earlier.

She could still picture the woman's face, features wizened and weathered with age, but still beautiful. Her wavy, waist-length jet-black hair had been beautifully streaked with gray, and her dark eyes had held a depth of wisdom and understanding. Mac had been walking past the woman's roadside stall when she had called out to her and shown her the shawl.

"I made this myself," the woman had said, and there was pride in her smile. "It has my love in it, my heart."

Mac had smiled back. "It's beautiful."

"It's yours."

Mac's smile had turned regretful. Her trip to Arizona had been made on a shoestring budget – she'd flown there on a whim, after the chaos and stress of taking the Bar, wanting to pay homage to the desert and caves that, with her Uncle Matt's help and support, had been the setting for the start of her transition from alcohol dependency to good health. She'd had a strange, restless urge to revisit the desert – perhaps it was her Native American heritage that had bonded her to the land, but as soon as she arrived, she'd felt at home, at peace.

But, as she looked at the shawl, studied the complexity of the embroidery, she decided not to even ask for its price – she knew she couldn't afford it. Gorgeous as it was, she could barely afford her motel room and a couple of meals every day – she certainly didn't have anything left over for luxuries.

The woman must have seen the look of longing in Mac's eyes as she admired the garment. "I learned how to make it from my mother, when I was growing up in Mexico," she had said in her soft, beautifully accented voice. "I have taught my daughter," she continued, "and she will teach her daughter. And so this culture will live on."

Mac had been moved by the woman's words, but knew it was time to move on. "I'm sorry," she said, "I would love to buy it, but I can't afford it."

With a smile, she had started to walk away, but the woman had called out to her again. Mac turned back, intended to firmly shake her head in refusal, but to her surprise, the woman was rushing towards her, the shawl in hand, with an energy that belied her advanced years.

"It's yours," the woman had said when she reached Mac. "Take it."

Mac was shocked. "I- I couldn't. It must have taken you many days of work to make this. I couldn't –"

"Shhh," the old woman had interrupted. "Never argue with an old woman. Take it."

Moved beyond words, Mac had reached out and taken it from the woman's fingers. "I have to give you something in return," she'd said, opening her purse to rummage through it.

"Stop!" the woman interjected, and there was a streak of anger in her tone. "Don't insult me, it is a gift."

Mac lifted her eyes to the woman. "Thank you – but why?"

"Because you remind me of my daughter – you have the same power in your eyes. And because there is something else in your eyes – something that tells me you are a survivor, like me. You have suffered much and stood strong. You deserve to have this."

Tears had leaped to Mac's eyes. _Who is this woman?_, she wondered. So she asked her. "What's your name? I need to know."

The woman had shaken her head. "You don't need to know. Just take the shawl, and with it, my blessing."

And then she had walked back to her stall.

Mac fingered the shawl, remembering that strange, emotional encounter. Speaking of strange encounters, her dance with Harm still had her heart racing. She couldn't understand it. It wasn't the first time she had danced with him, but the electricity between them had been so real, so magnetic, that she hadn't wanted it to end. It was the most memorable dance of her life. She sighed. Yet another memory of Harm to store in her treasure chest. There were so many memories there already with Harm at their center, life-changing moments that would stay with her forever… some happy, some depressing, mostly bittersweet, all precious, all poignant.

One day, years from now, would she be a lonely, old woman, opening up that treasure chest of memories, reliving each amazing moment, still longing for what could have been? Mac hoped not. She knew she needed to move on, to try to give her heart to someone who could love her freely and unreservedly. The trouble was, that was the way she longed to love Harm – and only Harm... the way she already loved him.

Lost in thought, Mac leaned back against the wall and shut her eyes. That was how Harm found her.

"Mac?"

Her eyes fluttered open, and she pushed herself away from the wall. Harm went to stand beside her. _Harm… why I can't seem to get away from you tonight?_, she thought. Then, resigning herself to the fact that he was there and she would just have to deal with it, she sighed.

"So, is Mattie okay?" she asked.

Harm nodded. "Yeah, she just had a question for a project she's working on – she knew I was out at a party so she figured it was okay to call late."

"I'm glad she's alright." Mac kept her eyes trained on a spot on the opposite wall. She was afraid to look at Harm, afraid of what her eyes would reveal.

There was an awkward silence, then Harm asked, "Are _you_okay? I looked for you when I came back."

Mac nodded. "I'm fine. Just needed some air. You?"

"I'm fine. I was just looking for you."

Mac lifted her eyes at that, to find Harm looking straight into them. She moistened her lips with her tongue. "Well, I guess you found me," she said lightly, looking away again.

Another awkward, intense silence, then Mac broke it by asking, "So where did you learn all those smooth moves, Harm?"

He laughed softly. "It's a long story."

Mac sighed. She guessed that a woman was probably at the center of _that_story… probably a gorgeous, exotic, sultry woman who'd taught him to dance – perhaps in exchange for lessons for another kind.

"Well, however you learned," she continued, "you're excellent at it. Your hip action is amazing."

Harm laughed again. "Thank you – I think."

More laughter, then more uncomfortable silence.

Mac scrambled to fill the lull. "I had no idea you could move like that;" she said, striving for a teasing tone, "you've been holding out on us."

"Well," Harm shrugged, "maybe I was just waiting for the right partner."

Mac blushed deeply, grateful that the light they were standing in was too dim for him to see her clearly. Then she noticed he was rubbing his hands. "Harm, you're cold. Where's your jacket?"

Harm shook his head. "I'm fine."

Without thinking, Mac unwrapped her shawl from her shoulders and turned to him. Putting her arms around him, she wrapped the shawl around them both. As soon as she had done it, she felt foolish. "It's, uh, a warm wrap, and, uh, big enough for us to share," she mumbled awkwardly.

Harm said nothing. He looked down at her, and even in the dim light, she could feel the warmth of his gaze. Their eyes locked, and it was as though an invisible force between them brought their faces together until their lips touched. Mac's lashes lowered, and she felt an incredible sense of completeness suffuse her entire body. This – being in Harm's arms, kissing him – felt so _right_.

Harm's arms came more tightly around her, running up the exposed skin of her back, causing her to shiver sensuously. Their kiss deepened and grew increasingly more intimate. One of Mac's hands slipped to touch Harm's face, even as he pulled her even closer, feeling every contour of her body, so warm, soft, feminine and yielding that it almost felt as though their bodies were melding together.

Later, neither Harm nor Mac would be able to remember exactly how long they'd stood there, kissing, touching, finally giving in to desires they'd each held back for so long. All they knew was that, eventually, they allowed words to pass between them, warm and loving words, not just kisses and touches. And eventually, realizing that they were in danger of being seen in a clinch that was rapidly approaching scandalous, Harm said to Mac, "Come on, let's get out of here." So they'd gotten out of there – and they'd been together, and inseparable, ever since.


	8. Epilogue

_A/N: The story jumps back to the 'present' at this point. This is the final chapter... thanks so much for sharing this story with me!_

Although Harm had started out as the storyteller, Mac had ended up telling their children most of the story of how they'd finally become a couple. As the story ended, Katie and Jack, who'd been listening with bated breath, finally got a chance to ask their questions.

"What happened to the pretty red dress, Mom?" Katie asked.

"I still have it," Mac replied, "hanging in my closet. I'll show you later."

"What happened to the Spanish dancing man?" Jack wanted to know.

Harm and Mac exchanged smiles. Santiago had become a friend. They had invited him to their wedding, where he and a friend of theirs had gotten talking. One thing had led to another, and….

"You already know what happened to the Spanish dancing man, Jack," Harm said.

"I do?"

"Yep… that's Uncle Santi."

Katie's eyes grew wide. "Aunt Jen's husband?"

"Yes," Mac confirmed, "he married your Aunt Jen."

"Wow," Jack said, "and he still likes to dance. He danced a lot at that party you and Dad had here last Christmas."

Mac smiled. "Yes, he did, but that was a grown-up party, and you and Katie were supposed to be in bed, so how do you know he danced?"

Jack blushed, knowing he was caught out. "We, uh, we peeked."

Katie chimed in, "But only for a little while."

Harm and Mac laughed at the guilty looks on their children's faces. "That's okay," Mac said to them.

There was one more question. "So how _did_you learn to dance so good, Daddy?"

"Now that's a funny story. You know that when I was younger, I used to spend a lot of time at your great-grandma's farm?"

The kids nodded; they'd heard a lot about their father's vacations with their 'Gammie', as they called her.

"So Gammie taught you to dance?" Jack asked, surprised – he really couldn't imagine his frail Gammie dancing, much less teaching someone else to dance.

"Not exactly," Harm replied, "but one summer, your Gammie decided that she wanted to learn ballroom dancing."

Jack was still astonished. "But why did she want to learn? She's old!"

Harm shook his head. _Kids_. He reached out a hand to ruffle Jack's hair. "Gammie was younger back then. Besides, it really doesn't matter how old you are – you can learn to dance at any age. It's a great way to get some exercise and have fun. Anyway, when she was starting to get older and to get some aches and pains, her doctor told her that dancing would be a good way to get some more exercise. It was also a great way for her to meet other people and make new friends. She joined a class close to where she lives, and she needed a dance partner, so she asked me."

Mac was listening with keen interest. This was the first time she was hearing about this – but, although she knew how much Harm loved his grandma, she was finding the story almost as strange as Jack was.

"I'm surprised you agreed to be her partner," she said to Harm, "it doesn't exactly sound like something you'd have been interested in."

Harm looked sheepish. "Well, I didn't exactly _agree_. But one night, she beat me at cards, and that was her prize."

"Clever lady," Mac said, with a smile.

Harm nodded. "Now, speaking of dancing," Harm said, walking over to the music center and turning on some _bachata_music. He turned to Mac. "May I have this dance, señora?"

Mac smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

Dinner preparations abandoned, Jack and Katie giggled as they watched their parents expertly navigate the room – hips swaying, legs gliding, baby bump and all.

Anyone looking through the window into the Rabb home on that damp, overcast evening would have been transfixed by the sight of the dark-haired, attractive couple laughing and moving across the room, with their children watching them in wonder and pleasure. The onlooker would have smiled to watch the couple separate and then resume dancing with new partners – father with daughter, mother with son. Their laughter was free, unfettered – and in it was the true joy and love of family.


End file.
